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'" _ issu'EBt i. m. GBIST & sons, Publishers, j % ^amitg Jlevcspaper: <j|or the promotion of the gotitical, Social, ggrituHural, and (Kommential Interests of the people- { tkr^.no^e toptY1Ai^e'ce\"t?nck' ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKVILLE, S. C., SATURDAY, AUGUST 9, 1902. 2STO. 64. ' ~~ i _T7~~ By SIR WAL Copyright, 1900. by Sir Walter Beasant. CHATTER II. A NOBLE LORD. P"?^*1T Is throe years later. W We are now In the year y^V I 1750. At 12 o'clock In Jll the morning the anteroom of the town house ot tbe l,onoral)le the Earl of Fyllngdale was tolerably filled with a mixed company attending his levee. Soon after 12 o'clock the doors of the private apartments were thrown open, and his lordship appeared wearing the look of dignity and proud condescension combined which well became the star lie wore and the ancient title which he had Inherited. His age was about 30. a time of life when there lin* ger some remaius of youth and the serious responsibilities are yet with some men hardly felt. His face was cold and proud and hard, the lips firmly set, the eyes keen and even piercing, the features regular, his stature tall, but uot ungainly; bis figure manly. It was remarkable among those who knew him intimately that there was as yet no sign of luxurious living on face and figure. He was not as yet swelled out with wine and punch; his neck was still slender, his face pale, without any telltale marks of wine and debauchery. So far as appearauce goes, he might pass If lie those for a person of the most rljritl and even austere virtue. This, as I have said, was considered remarkable by his friends, most of whom wore already stamped on face and feature and figure with the outward and visible tokens of a profligate life. for. to confess the truth at the very beginning and not to attempt concealment or to suffer a false belief as regards this nobleman, he was nothing better than a cold blooded, pitiless, selfish libertine, a rake and a voluptuary, one who knew and obeyed no lawa save the laws of (so called) honor. These laws allow a man to waste his fortune at the gaming table, to ruin coutiding girls, to spend his time with rake companions in drink and riot and debauchery of all kinds. He must, however, pay his gambliug debts; he must not cheat at cards; he must be polite in speech; he must be ready to fight wheuever the occasion calls for his sword and the quarrel seems of sufficient importance Lord Fylingdale, however, was not amor those who fouud bis chief pleasure scouring the streets and in mad riot You shall learn lu due course what forms of pleasure chiefly attracted him. I have said that his face was proud. There was not. I believe, any man living lu the whole world who could compare with Lord Fylingdale for pride. 1 iM.i...n.l./dn>innr neliln C?of IITY/YTI hlfl 1J V? CI liriUJIU^ pi IUV DU% W|/vu uw brow, was proclaimed by his eyes and was betrayed by his carriage. With such pride did Lucifer look round upon his companions, fallen a? they were and In the depths of hopeless ruin. He was dressed in a manner becoming to his rank. Need we dwell upon his coat of purple velvet, his embroidered waistcoat, his white silk stockings. his lace of ruffles and cravat, his gold buckles and bis gold clocks, his laced hat carried under his arm. his y Jeweled sword hilt and the rings upon his lingers? You would think by bis dress that his wealth was equal to his pride, and by his reception of the suitors that his power was equal to both pride and wealth together. The levee began. One after the other stepped up to him. spoke a few words, received a few words in reply and retired. each apparently well pleased, f promises cost nothing. To the poet *... ~ Aai*Ail #ai? a Qiilicot'lntinn nnri nrof uU nci\v\l I VI U v. fered a dedication my lord promised the former, accepted the latter and added a few words of praise and good wishes. But the subscription was never paid, and the dedication was afterward altered so far aa the superscription to another noble patron. To the y clergyman who asked for a country living then vacant my lord promised the most kindly consideration and bade him write his request and send it him by letter for better assurance of remembrance. To the officer he promised his company as only due to gallantry and military skill. To the place hunter he promised a post far beyond the dreams and the hopes of the suppliant. Nothing more came of it to either. rThe company grow mm. uue uner the other the suitors withdrew to feed on promises. It is like opening your mouth to drink the wind. Hut 'twas all they got. When they were gone, Lord Fylingdale looked round the room. In the window stood, dangling a cane from his wrist, a gentleman dressed in the highest aud the latest fashion. Vet when one looked more closely it was seen that this gallant exterior arrayed an ancient gentleman whose years were proclaimed by the sharpening of ills features, the wrinkles of his feet, the crow's feet round his eyes and his bending shoulders, which he continually endeavored to set square and upright. Ilat in one hand and stiulTbox in the other, he ambled toward his lordship on tiptoe, which happened just then to be the fashionable gait. "Thy servant. Sir Harry." My lord offered him his hand with condescenv sion. "It warms my heart to see thee. Therefore I sent a letter. Briefly, Sir Harry, wouldst do me a service?" BY ~~ TEK BEtiANT. "T am always at your lordship's com- i mands. This, I hope, I have proved." | "Then. Sir Harry, this is the case. It is probable that for certain private reasons 1 may have to pay a visit to a country town, a town of tarpaulins and traders, not a town of fashion." Sir Ilarry shuddered. "Patience, my friend. I know not how long I shall endure the barbaric company. But I must go. There are reasons ? let me whisper, reasons of state, important secrets?which call me there." Sir Harry smiled and looked incredulous. "I want on the spot a friend"?Sir Harry smiled again, as one who began to understand ? "a friend who would appear to be a stranger. Would you, therefore, play the part of such a friend V" "I will do whntevcr your lordship commands. Yet to leave town at this season"?it was then the month of April ? "the assembly, the park, the card table, the society of the ladies? It is possible that the Lady Anastasia may go there. She will, as usual, keep the bank if she does go." The old beau's face cleared, whether in anticipation of Lady Anastasia's society or her card table I know not. "My character, Sir Harry, will be in your hands. I leave It there confidently. For reasons?reasons of state?it should be a character of? "I understand. Your lordship is a model of all the virtues"? "So we understand. My secretary will converse with thee further on the point of expenditure." Sir Harry retired, bowing and twisting his body something like an ape. i lien ii Kt'iuit-iiuiu iu Muiu'i i?cacuied himself. "Your lordship's most obedient," he said, with scant courtesy. "I come in obedience to your letter of command." "Colonel, you will hold yourself in readiness to go into the country. There will be play. You may lose as much as you please to Sir Harry Malyus or to any one else whom my secretary will point out to you. Perhaps you may have to receive a remonstrance from me. We are strangers, remember, and 1 am no gambler, though I sometimes take a card." And he. too. retired. There remained one suitor. He was a clergyman dressed in a fine silk cassock with bands of the whitest and a noble wig of the order ecclesiastic. I doubt if the archbishop himself had a finer. "(Jood. my lord." he said. "I am, as usual, a suppliant The rectory of St. Leonard le Size. Jewry, in the City, is now vacant. With my small benefices in the country it would suit me hugely. A word from your lordship to the lord mayor- the rectory is in the gift of the corporation? would. I am sure, suffice." "You are living, as usual. I suppose, at great expense." "At small expense considering my abilities, but still at greater expense than my slender income will allow. Am I not your lordship's domestic chaplain? Must I not keep up the dignity duo to the position?" "Your dignity is costly. I must get a bishopric or a deanery for you. Meantime I have a small service to ask of you." "Small? My lord, let It be great; it cnnnoi he too great." "It is that you go Into the country for me." "Not to Bath or to Oxford?" "Not to either; to another place, where they know not thy name or thy fame. Very good. I thought I could depend upon your loyalty. As for arrangements and time, you will hear from my secretary." So my lord turned on his heel, and his chaplain was dismissed. When the levee was finished and everybody gone. Lord Fylingdale sank into a chair. I know not the nature of his thoughts save that they were not pleasant, for his face grew darker every moment. Finally he sprang to his feet and rang the bell. "Tell Mr. Sent 11 1- ?!i.u ?> j pie mat 1 wouiu speua wuu uilu, uc ordorcd. Mr. Semple, the same Samuel whom you have seen under a basting from the captain, was now changed and for the better. lie wore the dress of a poet. At this tiiue he also called himself secretary to ids lordship. ! "Seuiple," said his lordship, crossing his legs and playing with the tassel of Ids sword knot, "I have read thy letter"? "Your lordship will impute"? "First, what Is the meaning of the preamble?" "1 have been your lordship's secretary lor six months. I have therefore perused all your lordship's letters. I have also in my zeal for your lordship's intcivsts looked about uie. and I discovered what I ventured to state in that preamble." "Well, sir?" "Namely, that the Fylingdnle estates are gone so far as your lordship's life is concerned, but in a word all is gone, and ihat?your lordship will pardon the plain truth-your lordship's credit cannot last long and that?I now touch a most delicate point to a man of your lordship's nice sense of honor?the only resource left is precarious." "You mean"? "I mean a certain lady and a certain bank." "How, sir? Do you dare? What lias put this suspicion into your head?" "Nay, my lord; I have 110 thought hut for your lordship's interests, believe me. "And so you tell me about the rustic heiress, and you propose a plan"? "I have had the temerity to do so." "Yes. Tell me once more about this girl and about her fortune." "Her name is Molly Miller. She Is an orphan. Her guardian is an honest 'FCAMIT ML' ANO HI IAUU OCA HAJ0 ^ ^ ^ TO ! un sailor who has taken the greatest care of her property. She was an heiress already when her father died. That was 18 years ago. She is now ID." "Is she passable?to look at? A hoiden with a high color, I warrant." "A cream colored complexion touched with ted and pink, light hair in curls and blue eyes, the face and figure of a Venus, the sweetest mouth in the world and the fondest mauner." "Hang me if the fellow isn't in love with her himself! If she is all this, man, why not apply yourself for the post of spouse?" "Because her guardian keeps off all would be lovers and destines his ward for a gentleman at least, for a nobleman he hopes." "He is ambitious. Now as to her fortune." "She has a fleet of half a dozen tall vessels ? nay, there are more, but I know not how many. I was formerly a clerk In a counting house of the town, and I learned a great deal?what each is worth and what the freight of each voyage may produce?but not all. The captain, her guardian, keeps things close. My lord, I can assure you from what I learned in that capacity and by looking into old books that she must be worth over ?100,000, over ?100.000!" "1 can take this fortune without your assistance." "With submission, my lord, you cannot. I know too much. The girl's fortune when you have it will go the same way as your rents and woods have gone. Provide for me, therefore, before you begin to spend that money." "I will give you a life position, with ?200 a year. The girl, you say, has no lover." "She has no lover. Your lordship's rank, your manner, your appearance, will certainly carry the day. By contrast alone with the country bumpkins the heart of the girl will be won." "Mr. Semple," his lordship yawned, "do you suppose that the heart of the girl concerns me? Go and complete your scheme." The Lady Anastasia was In her dressing room In the hands of her friseur.the French hairdresser, and her maid. She was the young widow of air old baronet. She was also the daughter of an earl and the sister of his successor. She therefore enjoyed the freedom of a widow, the happiness natural to youth aud all the privileges of rank. No woman could be happier. It was reported that her love of the card table had greatly impaired her income. The world said that her own private dowry was wholly gone and a large part of her jointure. She kept a small establishment In Mount street Her people consisted of no more than two footmen, a butler, a lady's maid, a housekeeper and three or four maids, with two chairmen. She did not live as a rich woman. She received, it is true, twice a week, on Sundays and Wednesdays, but not with any expense of supper and wine. Her friends came to play cards, and she held the bank for them. On other eveniugs she went out and played at the houses of her friends. While the friseur was still completing her head Lord Fylingdale was announced. The lady blushed violently. She sat up and looked anxiously in the glass. "Betty," she cried, "a touch of red; not much, you clumsy creature! Will you never learn to have a lighter hand? So! That is better. I am horribly pale. His lordship can wait in the morning room. You have nearly finished, monsieur? Quick, then?the last touches! Betty, the flowered satin petticoat! My fan! The pearl necklace! So!" She looked again at the glass. "Am I looking tolerable, Betty?" "Your ladyship is ravishing," said Betty, finishing the toilet. Lady Anastasia swam out of the room with a gliding movement, then the fashion, and entered the morning room, where Lord Fylingdale awaited her. "Anastasia!" he said roftly, taking her hand. "It is very good of you to see me alone. I feared you would be surrounded with courtiers and fine ladies or with singers, musicians, hairdressers and other baboons. Permit me." and he raised her hand to his lips. "You look divine this morning. It 19 long since I have seen you look so perfectly charming." The huly murmured something. She was oue of those women who liko above all things to hear praises of what most thffy prize, their beauty, and to believe what they most desire to be the truth, the preservation and perfecting of that beauty. "But you came to see me alone. Was it to tell ute that I look charming? Other men tell me as much in company." "Not altogether that, dear lady, though that is something. I come to tell you of a change of plans." "You have heard that the grand jury of Middlesex has presented me by name as a corrupter of innocence, and I know not what, because I hold my bank on Sunday nights?" "I have heard something of the matter. It is almost time, I think, to give these presumptuous shopkeepers a lesson not to Interfere with the pursuits of persons of rank. Let them confine themselves to the prentices who play < at pitch and toss." |i "Oh, what matters their presentment? I shall continue to keep the ( bank on Sunday nights. Now, my dear l lord, what about these plans? What is changed?" ' "We thought, you remember, about l going to Tunbridge In July." "Well, shall we not go there?" 1 "Perhaps. But there Is something to 1 be done first. Let me confide In you"? "My dear lord, you have never con- I flded in anybody." 1 "Except In you. I think you know 1 all my secrets, if I have any. In whom 1 else can I confide? In the creatures 1 who Importune me for places? In ! friends of the green table? In friends 1 of the race course? My dear Anastasla, ( | you know, I assure you, as much about 1 my personal affairs as I know myself." "If you would always speak so kindly!" Her eyes became bumid, but not tearful. A lady of fashion must not spoil ber ebeek by tears. "Well, then, the ease Is this: You know of the condition of my affairsno one better. An opportunity presents itself to effect a great improvement I am Invited by the highest personage to take a more active part In the affairs of state. No one Is to know this. For reasons connected with this proposal I am to visit a certain town?a trading town, a town of rough sailors?there to conduct certain Inquiries. There is to be a gathering at this town of the gentry and people of the county. Would you like to go. ray dear friend? It Will be next month." "To leave town and In May, Just before the end of the season?" "There will be opportunities, I am told, of holding a bank, and a good many sportsmen?'tis a sporting county? may be expected to lay their money. In a word, Anastasla, It will not be a bad exchange." "And how can I help you? Why should 1 go there?" "By letting the people, the county people, understand the many virtues and graces which distinguish my character. No one knows me better than yourself"? The lady smiled. "No one," she murmured. ?"or can speaa wun greater aumuruj on tbe subject Tbere will be certain of our friends there?tbe parson. Sir Harry, the colonel" "Pah, a beggarl^crew and blown upon! They are dangerous." "Not at this quiet and secluded town. They will be strangers to you as well as to me. And tbey will be useful. After all, in such a place you need an opening. They will lead the way." The lady made no response. "1 may call It settled, then?" He still held her band. "If you would rather not go, Anastasla, 1 will find some one else, but I had hoped"? She drew away her hand. "You are right," she said. "No one knows yoa so well as myself. And all I know about you Is that you are always contriving some devilry. What is It this time? But you will not tell me. You never tell me." "Anastasla, you do me an Injustice. This is a purely political step." "As you wllL Call It what you please. I am your servant, you know that; your handmaid In ail things save ODe. Not for any other woman, Ludovlck, not for any other unfortunate woman, will 1 lift my little finger. Should you betray me In this respect"? He laughed. "A woman? And in that company? Rest easy, dear child. Be jealous as much as you please, but not with such a cause." He touched her cheek with his finger. , He stooped and kissed her band and , wlthH row Lady Anastasia stood awhile where he left her. The joy had gone out of her heart. She trembled. She was seized with a foreboding of evlL She threw herself upon the sofa and burled her face In her hands, and, forgetful of paste and patch and paint, she suffered the murderous tears to destroy that work of art, her finished face. to be continued. He Changes River Courses.?David Neal, of Fort Calhoun, Neb., is engaged in the work of changing the course of the Missouri river at a point near Roonville, where the stream threatens the tracks of the Missouri Pacific railway. The work is being done under the supervision of the company's engineer. Mr. Neal. who is past 6S years old. is the inventor of what is known as "nrush rip-rapping." He owns 1,500 acres of valuable land along the Missouri river front near Fort Calhoun, and twelve years ago the current on his side of the stream commenced to cut away his land at a fearful rate. He spent considerable money trying to save his property, and finally figured it out for himself. He made large coneshnnpri wnoden frames fifteen feet in diameter, and these he covered with a heavy layer of heavy nails and wire, i When the huge cone was thus covered, : it was rolled into the river and anchored. The result was that it soon filled i with" mud. This was the first noticeable impediment in the big stream, and the dike was extended fifty feet into the water. Within three months' time the channel of the river was thrown to the opposite side, and land along over five miles of snore was saved. "That encouraged me to go into the business," said Mr. Neal last night, "and I have been in it ever since, doing work for the government. I have machinery for making the cones, or frames and if the necessary brush is not handy I ship it in. I can control any running stream in the United States."?Kansas City Journal. |Uisffttanco?s Reading. THE LAST BUFFALO HUNT. It Won In 1878, anil In the Next Year There Were Bnt Few to Be Found. The bill providing an appropriation Df $15,000 for the protection and preservation of the American bison, or buffalo, is now a law. This was a part of the original bill drawn up and proposed by "Buffalo" Jones, of Topeka, Kan., providing for an appropriation of $30,000 for fencing and restocking a portion of the Yellowstone Park with buffalo. It also called for the establishment of an experimental station for uross-breeding various animals of different genera, with a view to obtaining breeds of sheep, goats and cattle capable of enduring tne western winters without shelter or feeding. The experiment station part of the bill was killed and the $30,000 was cut down to &15.000, but even in the shape that It finally passed it will result In a great 3eal of good and In the protection of big game in the Yellowstone. Col. Jones arrived in the city last Saturday, and when seen by a reporter soon after the passage of his bill he 3tated that he was the happiest man In Washington. The bill does not say who shall have charge of the work of fencing off a part of the Yellowstone Park and caring for the buffalo therein. but this mater has already been settled by the department of the interior inviting Col. Jones to take charge >f the work and by his accepting the place. Mr. Jones was accompanied on this lis last visit to the capital by Mr. A. W. Stubbs, of Kansas City, Mo., who is /ery much interested in the enterprise ind in all efforts toward the preserva:ion of American game animals and who enjoys the distinction of having - J-J K.?#Pnln Vkiltif llirilUCU II1C IdOl 51 cai uunatu uunv iver held In the United States. In [878 Mr, Stubbs, who'speaks a number )f Indian languages, was stationed as Indian interpreter, under Agent John I I), itoiles, at the Cheyenne and Arapaloe agency, in the Indian Territory. The Cheyennes had some time previous :o this date September, 1878, been in ! -ebellion and were then prisoners of ,var and not allowed to leave the reser/ation, but when the news reached the 1 lgency that a large herd of buffalo had ' seen seen on the plains some 100 miles I :o the west of that point, the Indians < >vere so eager for a big hunt that Agent Vliles was Anally prevailed upon to telegraph to the war department for pernission. The request being granted, lurried preparations were made for the I ?hase by the Indians, who were as hapr>y as a lot of boys out skating. The story of how the hunt was conducted 1 ind its result, Mr. Stubbs relates as >1 follows: I "The hunting party that left ^the 1 igency the day after Mr. Miles receiv- 1 id word from the war department that < the Indians might take the hunt num- ' tiered about 400. There were 90 Chey- ; mne bucks: 15 Arapahoe bucks and 300 squaws, all mounted on swift-footed 1 - AlA Indian ponies, ine men, ui uuuidc, um the hunting and the killing, while the 3quaws went along to do the skinning ind cutting up the meat, and such other drudgery as their lords and masters considered beneath their dignity. I ivas detailed by Mr. Miles to accompany the party as their guardian and protector, and to see to it that the settlers did not mistake or misunderstand their mission and give them trouble, for in order to reach the buffalo, we had to pass through a section of Kansas that, for western country of that jay and time, was fairly well populated. I took with me six cavalry men, i big army wagon, a driver and a cook. "I had a list of the names of the Injians that formed the hunting party that I had to turn in to the war department, along with my report, when we returned, and one of the first things that had to be done just before we started was to read and check off t^is coll. each and every Indian in the party answering as his name was called. Although the Indians numbered only 105, they took with them 1,000 ponies to carry the meat which they expected to kill, back to the reservation, and in >rder also to have fresh horses when they reached the hunting grounds, and In addition to all this, they took along what seemed to me about 2,000 mangy, wolfish Indian dogs. "According to Indian custom, the men rode first, the squaws bringing up the rear, and commanding the party were two Indians, who although they held no office in the tribe, were chosen to direct the hunt by reason of their reputation and skill as hunters. I had never attended a buffalo hunt of this character before, and this custom of electing two men to direct operations was something new to me. I learned that in the event an Indian killed any same without first securing the permission to do so from these masters of the hun". he was forthwith stripped of all his clothing and belongings, his horse killed and himself driven out of the party for the offence that h^ had thus committed. The members of an Indian hunting party place implicit reliance and faith in the judgment and sagacity of those whom they elect on an occasion of this sort, and they obey them as the peasants of Russia do the czar. "The first two days after we left the reservation were uneventful, but on the morning of the third I saw a bear, and later a few antelope, and being anxious to try my luck, I sent word by Little Robe, an Indian with whom I happened to be riding, to one of the hunt masters for permission for him and me to take a little hunt along a stream, the course of which we were then following. This being granted, we went out and succeeded in bagging three antelope. On our way back to join the main column, Little Robe remarked that he was hungry, and cutting open one of the antelopes, he took out the liver and began eating it. On the fourth day the masters of the hunt sent out runners, who returned the day following with buffalo meat. "That night we spent in busy preparation for the next day's hunt. Every buck took a fresh horse, and when morning dawned we were in the saddle and on the move. It was rolling prairie country, and along about 11 o'clock we sighted an enormous herd of buffalo, feeding along the top of a plateau. We rode around the base of this rising ground, sending every now and then some one to the top to glance over and see how near we were drawing to the herd. At last we circled around until we were quite close to them when one of the hunt masters gave a short, quick order that brought the column up abreast, in which fashion we rode to the top of the rise and in full view of the animals. "As we did so, I could see one buffalo after another throw up his head, look about until he saw our party, and set off at a slow, rolling gallop. This, however, was only for an instant, for ns we drew un to the crest of the rise the order that all were eager for and expecting rang out simultaneously from both hunt masters and away the whole column charged at full speed on the buffalo, shooting them down on every side. I rode on with the rest, doing my share of the shooting, for a mile or so, when, tiring of the sport I turned back. \ "On my way back to camp I met the squaws skinning and cutting up the animals that the males had killed and which were lying about everywhere. We remained among the buffalo for two weeks, before we thought of returning, killing In all a total of 1,000 animals. One of the curious things that I saw on this trip was an old buffalo with a deformed right front hoof, that one of the Indians had killed. He had been shot and wounded in this hoof wrfen he was quite young, and one side of the cloven hoof had grown in a circle completely around the other to the length of fully a foot and several Inches. "When we were about ready to return the squaws began loading the meat on the ponies, and I was surprised to see what an enormous load these hardy little animals could carry. It seemed to me that they would load the meat of one buffalo on these po nies, a weight of fully 400 or 500 pounds. I have seen these ponies loaded so heavily that they had to stand braced with their legs standing out like a tripod in order to support the frightful burden imposed by their unfeeling masters. Then on top of this load some Indian would climb to ride back to the reservation. "When we got back to the agency the squaws set about cutting the meat up into long thin strips and drying it for future use. The Indians also held a big feast of fresh meat, gorging themselves for days on Juicy steaks and tongues. I undertook to follow the Indian custom on such occasions of going from one tepee to another, eating some meat in each, but had to quit after visiting three places. The endurance of the Indian ponies in traveling long distances under heavy loads was as surprising as the storage capacity of their masters when it came to a feast of buffalo meat. "That, so far as I have been able to learn, was the last great buffalo hunt ever held in the United States. The Pacific railroads and the rapid settlement of the west so reduced the herds that after 1878 the number of buffalo n'nof u'oa vorv am a 11 inripprf. Tt was the last buffalo hunt ever taken by the Cheyennes and Arapahoes, for although they sent out scouts the year following, they returned with word that the number of animals they found were not worth going after."?Washington Post. WESTERN METHODS IN LUZON. Rnliltlt HuntlnK Way of FlRhtlnR the Filipinos. Hunters in the west will be interested to find that their methods have been copied by our army In the Philippines. There is one district that has been troubled more than Is fair by bandits and brown Washingtons, and the army, seeing no better way, has decided on a round up. It will do as the ration nuniera in *joioraau nave uccu doing. A cordon of troops inclosing an area of something like 12 square miles has been created, and this line will slowly draw inward, the distance between the men narrowing at every step. All inhabitants of the inclosed region will be compelled to retire to the center of the pen, and when the whole company has been corralled and the troops are a fairly solid line about it, the officers will demand the surrender of the thieves and trouble makers. II mis surrenuer is uui piuiu^u; there will be no "kill and burn order, yet there is a vague notion that as Mr. Devery put it, "there'll be somethin" didin*." In dealing with Filipinos we have discovered no such desperate courage as is shown by our Indians in their battles. In one or two engagements with the red men things like this have been attempted: but the Indians refused to be meekly driven in. They stood on their rights and blazed into the advancing lines with muzzle loaders, revolvers and any other weapons they had been able to buy and steal, and the final round up was not made until the grass had been dewed with expensive blood. But we can rely on the Filipinos not to do this. They may be as willing to kill as the Indians are, but they are treacherous and in their view it is honorable, and it is as customary to stab in the back in the dark as it is to fight face to face in the light. Suppose, however, that our men had miscalculated the strength of the bandits. Suppose that instead of a handful of men they were rounding up a brigade that was falling back to a base of supplies? 'Well, then there would be "somethin* didin'," too. JUDGE'!) LAST GAME AT I'AUU, Played to Win fl0,0<M>?A Friend Waiting to Commit Salclde It He Lout. "The other day when I was in Philadelphia," said a New York man, "I was told how one of their millionaires, Peter A. B. Wldener, walked the streets of Philadelphia all night once with $10,000 in his pocket, wondering how he was going to invest it so as to double it. Now, I'll ted you a story of another man who walked all night. "A Judge of a county court in the upper end of my state came to town to play faro. His name was Bertram. H? never played cards at home, but he used to come to my town and go up against It for a week at a stretch. He was usually a winner. "The night I have in mind Judge Bertram met an old friend who had been running down at the heel financially until he looked like a cripple. He frescoed his story up pretty well to the judge, who was a peculiar combination. When Bertram was a winner at faro he would divide his pile with any friend; but he would let the same friend starve before he would help him until he had shaken the bank, as he put it when he won. His unfortunate friend told him he was going to jump into the river that night unless he got some help. The faro bank was on the upper floor of a building that stood lacing me river, oeriram aaiu iu me run-down man: " 'You go down on the levee and walk up and down until I give you a signal that I have made a winning. If I shake the bank, you'll get some of the dust. If you don't see me signal, jump into the river. You are no good without money, anyway.' "It was a bargain and they separated, the judge to win or lose, his friend to win or die. "All night the judge won and lost alternately. Sometimes he had stacks of reds and blue so high tnat they cast a shadow on the dealer's box; sometimes he had a few measly whites on a card which looked like a poor relation. "Meanwhile the man on the river front was walking, looking at the dark flow of the water like the poor unfortunate in Hood's 'Bridge of Sighs;' nnnn dnnHne tin at the windows in the gambling room. A terrific thundershower broke over the town and still the man walked along the riverfront until he was drenched to the marrow in his shivering bones. "In the gray of the morning, with sheets of rain still falling upon the scene, Judge Bertram left the game, a $10,000 winner, and walked down to the river front where his impecunious friend was shivering. " 'I expected to find you in the river,' said the Judge. 'I didn't signal, because I made it all in a heap.' " 'If it hadn't been for the rain,' said his friend, 'I might have jumped, but I said to myself, 'What's the use, you are already wet through and if the rain keeps on you'll drown on land.' "The Judge called a hack and the two drove to the best hotel in town and had breakfast. They left town together. A year later they owned one of the biggest cattle ranches in Colorado. "It was the judge's last game; and it was the last time his friend ever did any walking. Bertram is dead, but his partner has interests stretching across the continent, in Hawaii and Japan.? New York Sun. Tropics at Our Doors.?Americans live better, perhaps, than the people of any other part of the world. They are not content with the products of their own country, but draw largely upon the tropics for condiments and delicacies that add to the pleasures of the table. The increase in the contributions of the tropics to the daily life of man has been general throughout the countries where prosperity or an activity in manufacturing and commerce is the rule, but it seems to be especially marked in the United States, which now imports more than *1,000,000 worth of tropical and subtropical foodstuffs and raw materials every day in the year. The increased reliance upon the tropics is probably greater, proportionately, in the United States than in most other councries, since a much larger share of our sugar is drawn from the tropics than Is the case witn oiner, ana especially the European, countries, which in most cases now produce their own sugar from beets. The United States have during recent years consumed nearly one-half of the cane sugar of the world which enters into international commerce, and more than one-half of the coffee of the world. In the year just ended the importations of goods usually considered as of tropical or sub-tropical production amounted to $400,000,000, or considerably more than $1,000,000 for every day in the year, including Sundays and holidays, while 30 years ago they amounted to but $143,000,000 or less than $400,000 per day.?Cleveland Plain Dealer. ... - 9 m As to Errors.?A Massachusetts business firm prints this paragraph at the top of its letter head: "Errors? we make them; so does every one. We will cheerfully correct them if you will write to us. Try to write good naturedly if you can, but write to us anyway. Do not complain to some one else first or let the matter pass. We want first opportunity to make right any injustice we may do." The little sermon deserves a wide audience. Few people that have not had occasion at some time in their lives to regret the sending of a harsh or hasty note of complaint. It may be necessary to assert one's rights in subsequent letters, but there is no better rule of correspondence than to make the first one good natured.?Youth's Companion. You cannot legislate virtue into people. There is no man ever any better than he wants to be.